


Favours

by Kyluxtrashpit (ApostateRevolutionary)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Sex, Armitage Hux is Not Nice, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Multi, Orgasm Denial, Phasma Is Not Nice, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader-Insert, Rough Sex, Sex for Favors, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:41:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22108015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApostateRevolutionary/pseuds/Kyluxtrashpit
Summary: You've heard rumours of sexual favours on the Finalizer before, though it's not something you ever considered doing. While it's not a common practice, you know it does exist. But now that you're in the position of wanting to escape a worse fate, offering your body doesn't seem like such a bad idea...(Chapter 1: Hux/ReaderChapter 2: Phasma/ReaderThe story is the same either way, just two different options)
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Reader, Phasma (Star Wars)/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 72





	1. Hux

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I've got no excuse for this lmao. I wanted to write this fic but couldn't decide whether it should be Phasma or Hux so I made both. They're pretty much the same with minor differences, so read one or the other or both, if you like. Reader's gender is intentionally left ambiguous, as is their genitalia (though Phasma and Hux are both cis). Both Phasma and Hux are Not Nice so it's as consensual as sex for favours gets (and the reader is looking forward to it, does enjoy it), but mind the tags cause it's still kind of iffy lmao. I put a warning in the end notes if you're concerned but it does contain spoilers for the ending
> 
> I actually wrote the Phasma one first, but figured Hux would be more popular so I made him the first chapter lmao

“Lieutenant,” Hux said as you entered, his voice emotionless as always, “do you know why you’ve been summoned?”

“No, sir.” You saluted, as you’d been trained to do, not letting your nervousness show.

A summons to General Hux’s office was rarely a good sign. There were times, few and far between, where it meant a promotion, but you had no illusions it could possibly be for that. You’d done nothing to warrant it. In fact, you’d made a mistake.

A mistake which had led to a Resistance transport getting away.

“The Resistance transport escaped due to your lack of attention to detail.” It wasn’t a question, but you nodded anyway. “You deserve a demotion for that.”

You swallowed, trying to keep your expression neutral. Demotion was a serious punishment in the First Order. Even just the thought was enough to cause cold dread to pool in your stomach. Part of you wanted to point out that it’d been a simple mistake, that one transport wasn’t much in the grand scheme, but you knew well enough to swallow that down. Whatever Hux said, went, and that was that.

“I understand, sir,” you said, hoping your resignation didn’t come through as strongly as you feared.

“There is,” Hux said, pausing for a moment, “another option. I’m sure you know what’s expected of you if you want to avoid it.”

You swallowed again. There were rumours, of course, of ways for officers to get out of punishments or gain advantages. Find the right superior and offer them what they wanted and, well, you’d go far. You’d never been bold enough to try, too shy to consider becoming a bedwarmer in order to get benefits. But to avoid a demotion…

You adjusted your stance, still at attention, but more open. “How would you like me, General?”

Hux watched you for a moment, then nodded. “Remove your uniform, Lieutenant. All of it.”

Taking a deep breath for courage, you began working on the buttons and clasps of your uniform. Already you could feel your cheeks burning and you knew Hux noticed, but you kept at it, not wanting to disappoint him. The uniform came off quickly, even though your hands shook a little. Years of practice and muscle memory were impossible to forget, no matter how nervous you might be for what was to come.

You wondered idly how Hux might have you. Did he want your mouth and throat? You pictured yourself kneeling between his thighs, licking and sucking him to orgasm. A little thrill shot through you at the thought. Did he want you to fuck him? It seemed unlikely that the untouchable General would bend for you, but perhaps he had a penchant for riding. Or maybe he wanted to take you, to fuck you so hard you could barely walk back to your quarters? You could feel heat building between your legs at the thought.

As you considered the possibilities before you, you finished removing your uniform and then paused at your undershirt. Your face was burning even hotter now, but you soldiered on, as you knew Hux expected you to. You’d never shown this much skin to a superior before.

Hux just watched, staying unmoving, his face a calm mask as always. He hadn’t made any moves to undress and you couldn’t help but wonder if he would at all. So few knew anything about Hux on a personal level and you couldn’t help but wish this might give you a way to find out, to be one of those privileged few.

You were now left in your standard issue undergarments. When Hux didn’t say anything more, you shucked those too, and tried to resist the urge to cover yourself. Hux continued to look at you and you could tell he was assessing you, seeing if you measured up. Here, in his office, where he was fully dressed in his uniform and you were completely bare, you couldn’t help but feel small.

“Come here and bend over the desk,” Hux finally said, breaking the silence.

Hesitation crept in, but you pushed it down and walked forward, the chill on your skin making your nipples hard and ensuring it was impossible to forget what was about to happen. Hux’s command also confirmed the specifics: you were about to be fucked. The thought made you shiver with anticipation, the heat between your legs growing. You couldn’t deny that you wanted it, now that you were here.

You did as ordered, like a good officer always did, and Hux let the moment hang before getting up and walking behind you. Was this it? Was he going to strip down too? The sound of clothing shuffling made you glance back to see he was opening his pants, but not removing anything else. You tried not to be disappointed that you wouldn’t see the rest of him.

You waited patiently as he finished what he was doing, and then he went to open a drawer. Trying to turn your head far enough, you bit your lip when you still couldn’t see what he was grabbing. You looked forward again, trying not to move while you waited. It was hard not to be eager, though.

Heavy steps behind you told you he’d returned and you couldn’t help glancing back again. In one bare hand, he held lube, but that wasn’t what caught your eye. No, that was the already mostly hard cock between his legs, bobbing a little as he walked due to its size. You swallowed hard. Circumstances aside, this was going to feel incredible.

Unable to help it, you squirmed a little as he approached. Hux said nothing, but then there was the pop of a cap, almost like a blaster shot in the silence of the room. You spread your legs, silently begging for him to touch you. You were throbbing now, all reservations from before forgotten in the face of reality.

One lubed finger circled your ass and you tried not to be disappointed that he hadn’t touched you where you truly wanted it. It was impossible he didn’t know how aroused you were, not with a front row seat, he had just _chosen_ not to. That shouldn’t have sent another shock of heat south, yet it did. This was about Hux, about what he wanted, not you. You were just there to provide it.

The finger pushed in and you consciously relaxed around the intrusion to show how eager you were to please. Hux wasted no time spreading the lube and coaxing you open. The way he did it was so impersonal, clearly just a task he was performing in order to get what he wanted. He made no move to improve the angle, uncaring if you derived any pleasure from it at all. You barely managed to bite down a moan at the realization.

A second finger slid in and Hux continued the same, preparing you with the same amount of interest as he’d clean his blaster with. Next, a third finger went in and you couldn’t help spreading your legs further, the rhythmic movements arousing you even if you received little direct pleasure from the act. You may have been doing this to avoid a demotion, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy it.

The fingers withdrew and then the blunt head of his cock was pushing against your rim. You moaned as it slid in, filling you up and making your eyes slip closed. Hux didn’t wait for you to adjust, but he didn’t hurry either, just keeping a steady pressure until he was all the way inside, his hips pressing against your ass. You exhaled deeply, adjusting to the stretch and being so damn _full_.

“In the First Order,” Hux said, the coldness of his voice underlining just what this was, “what are you?”

“I’m a tool, sir,” you said, reciting by rote what Hux often said in his speeches, that every officer was another tool in the First Order’s kit. “I’m a tool for the Order’s glory.”

“Correct, Lieutenant. And do you know what you are now?”

You tried to focus, tried to think anything beyond the hot pressure inside you, which was becoming more comfortable but also more arousing. Nothing came to mind, though, so you just shook your head and hoped that wasn’t the wrong answer. The last thing you wanted right now was for Hux to pull out and decide you weren’t worth his time.

“Of course not, I should have expected that,” Hux said, a hint of disappointment coming through that made you want to shrink into nothing. “I’ll tell you, then: you’re a hole.”

With that, Hux pulled back and snapped his hips forward, immediately starting a hard rhythm. You couldn’t help a choked moan, the insistent back and forth of his cock inside you too much to deny. There was a hint of pain from the harsh thrusts, but just enough of a hint of pleasure to make it worth it. He didn’t need to tell you for you to know your pleasure was incidental here. If Hux wanted it to feel good, he wouldn’t be fucking you like this.

“You’re a hole,” Hux repeated, making your toes curl and your face burn with shame. “You’re a hole for me to use. Do try to be worthy of me using you.”

The moan that crawled out of your throat was entirely unintended, but you couldn’t have stopped it if you tried. The continued ramming against your ass made it hard to think and you were so aroused it almost hurt. A slightly different angle, a hand between your legs, that’s all it would take to put you on the track to coming. But you understood the unsaid meaning: holes didn’t get to come. If you wanted to be worthy of being used, you’d take what you were given and ask for nothing more than the privilege of serving your superior.

Hux’s hands were suddenly on your hips, gripping you tight enough that you wondered if you’d have bruises later. He picked up the pace, the sound of your skin slapping together loud over your own panting and the quiet, subdued grunts coming from Hux. You strained to hear more, wondering what he’d sound like when he came. You were suddenly desperate to find out.

“What are you, Lieutenant?” Hux demanded, his tone uncharacteristically strained.

“I’m a hole, sir,” you managed, your breathing heavy both from arousal and from taking the rough fucking.

“And what are holes for?”

“Holes are to be used, sir.” Your response was nearly a moan this time, the words turning you on further even as Hux continued to take his pleasure while giving you hardly any.

“And what don’t holes do?”

“Holes don’t come, sir,” you guessed breathlessly.

“Good hole,” Hux said, his voice no longer controlled enough to conceal his pleasure.

You never thought being called something like a ‘good hole’ would arouse you, so you were completely unprepared for the surge of heat and tingling between your legs. Oh fuck, you wanted to be touched so bad. You didn’t know if you’d ever been this desperate to come, yet you also knew it was the one thing Hux wouldn’t allow you to do. You could feel a little pool of sticky wetness under you on the desk, proving just how badly you wanted it.

The next three thrusts were even rougher, less coordinated, and then Hux pushed all the way in and stilled, his hips bucking shallowly as his hot come filled your ass, his breathing harsher than you’d ever heard it. You could feel his thighs shaking where they touched yours and your whole body clenched at how good it must have been for him compared to you. But you were a hole; holes didn’t get to come. Hux’s orgasm would have to be enough to satisfy you until you made it back to your quarters.

He pulled out without another word and you could hear him putting his cock away and zipping up his pants. You took the moment while you could, trying to will your body to move. You felt so hot, the source of it throbbing insistently between your legs. Fuck, you might have to stop at a rarely used storage closet or something on the way back. You honestly weren’t sure you could wait until you made it back to your quarters.

“Get dressed and leave,” Hux finally said, breaking your reverie. “You’re dismissed.”

Swallowing back a sigh of disappointment, you managed to stand on your weak legs and started gathering your uniform. Hux was already smoothing his hair back, nearly the perfect picture of being untouchable all over again. It was like you were never there.

_Except the way his thighs shook when he came,_ you couldn’t help but think. That was a memory you’d take with you into probably every masturbation session you ever had until the day you died. It was too good to forget. He could’ve gotten that from almost anyone he wanted, yet he’d chosen to take it from you.

Once dressed, you turned to glance at Hux, but he didn’t say or do anything more. Feeling more together now that you were clothed again, you saluted and turned towards the door, eager to return to your quarters and touch yourself until you screamed. Just before the door wooshed open, though, Hux called out.

“Oh, and Petty Officer?”

You turned, your heart sinking, even more so when you saw the cruel smirk on Hux’s face. You knew questioning a superior would only make things worse, but you couldn’t help it in your disbelief. You’d had an agreement, had you not?

“But, sir-” you started.

“You heard me,” Hux said, still smirking like a knife. “And you know I don’t like being interrupted. The changes to your duties will be sent to your datapad by the end of the cycle. You can return to your quarters now.”

Your knees suddenly felt weak for a whole different reason. You couldn’t believe this. Hux had made you a deal, had fucked you like a toy, called you a kriffing _hole_ , and he wasn’t even going to stand by his word? It was hopeless to argue, though. Who would believe a lowly Lieutenant-now-Petty-Officer over the great and respected General Hux?

No one, that’s who. You didn’t try to argue further, just turned and left. It was too late for that. Hux had played you and now you’d been fucked, both in terms of your career and your ass. It was all you could do to keep your head up and pretend nothing was amiss as you glumly made your way back to your quarters.


	2. Phasma

“FN-2169,” Phasma said as you entered, the vocoder flattening any hint of emotion in her voice, “do you know why you’ve been summoned?”

“No, sir.” You saluted, as you’d been trained to do, not letting your nervousness show.

A summons to Captain Phasma’s office was rarely a good sign. There were times, few and far between, where it meant a promotion, but you had no illusions it could possibly be for that. You’d done nothing noteworthy, had simply followed your orders on Jakku as you were required to.

Unlike FN-2187, who’d gone rogue.

“You were part of the squadron on Jakku.” It wasn’t a question, but you nodded anyway. “The entire squadron has been slated for reconditioning, you included.”

You swallowed, glad for the helmet hiding your expression. No one wanted to go to reconditioning. Even just the thought was enough to cause cold dread to pool in your stomach. Part of you wanted to point out that you’d done nothing wrong, that one traitor didn’t reflect on you, but you knew well enough to swallow that down. Whatever Phasma said, went, and that was that.

“I understand, sir,” you said, hoping your resignation didn’t come through.

“There is,” Phasma said, pausing for a moment, “another option. I’m sure you know what’s expected of you if you want to avoid it.”

You swallowed again. There were rumours, of course, of ways for Stormtroopers to get out of punishments or gain advantages. Find the right Captain or officer and offer them what they wanted and, well, you’d go far. You’d never been bold enough to try, too shy to consider becoming a bedwarmer in order to get benefits. But to avoid reconditioning…

You adjusted your stance, still at attention, but more open. “How would you like me, Captain?”

Phasma watched you for a moment, then nodded. “Remove your armour, trooper. All of it.”

Taking a deep breath for courage, you began working on the straps and ties of your armour. Already you could feel your cheeks burning, so you kept your helmet on for now, deciding to save it for last. It would be easier if she couldn’t see your face, you decided. The white plasteel armour came off quickly, even though your hands shook a little. Years of practice and muscle memory were impossible to forget, no matter how nervous you might be for what was to come.

You wondered idly how Phasma might have you. Did she want your lips and tongue? You pictured yourself kneeling between her muscled thighs, licking and sucking her to orgasm. A little thrill shot through you at the thought. Did she want you to fuck her? It seemed unlikely that the untouchable Captain would bend for you, but perhaps she had a penchant for riding. Or maybe she wanted to take you, to fuck you so hard you could barely walk back to your quarters? You could feel heat building between your legs at the thought.

As you considered the possibilities before you, you finished removing your armour and then paused. You’d have to remove your helmet to get the undersuit off. Face still burning, you forced yourself to remove it, finally baring it to the recycled air of Phasma’s office.

If she reacted at all, you couldn’t tell. Phasma stayed unmoving, still fully dressed in all her shining chrome. You couldn’t help but wonder if she would undress at all; so few had seen her face and you couldn’t help but be curious what she looked like. It would be a privilege to be one of those few who knew.

The undersuit came off as quickly as the rest, leaving you in your standard issue undergarments. When Phasma didn’t say anything more, you shucked those too, and tried to resist the urge to cover yourself. Phasma continued to look at you and even though you couldn’t see her eyes, you could tell she was assessing you, seeing if you measured up. Here, in her office, where she was fully dressed in armour and you were completely bare, you couldn’t help but feel small.

“Come here and bend over the desk,” Phasma finally said, breaking the silence.

Hesitation crept in, but you pushed it down and walked forward, the chill on your skin making your nipples hard and ensuring it was impossible to forget what was about to happen. Phasma’s command also confirmed the specifics: you were about to be fucked. The thought made you shiver with anticipation, the heat between your legs growing. You couldn’t deny that you wanted it, now that you were here.

You did as ordered, like a good Stomtrooper always did, and Phasma let the moment hang before getting up and walking behind you. Was this it? Was she going to strip down too? A clink of armour being removed made you glance back to see she was pulling off the armour on her lower half, but not the rest. You tried not to be disappointed that you wouldn’t see the rest of her.

You waited patiently as she finished, then went to open a drawer. Trying to turn your head far enough, you bit your lip when you still couldn’t see what she was grabbing. You looked forward again, trying not to move while you waited. It was hard not to be eager, though.

Steps behind you – Phasma was still wearing her boots, it seemed – told you she’d returned and you couldn’t help glancing back again. In one bare hand, she held lube, but that wasn’t what caught your eye. No, that was the strap-on between her legs, bobbing a little as she walked due to its size. You swallowed hard. Circumstances aside, this was going to feel incredible.

Unable to help it, you squirmed a little as she approached. Phasma said nothing, but then there was the pop of a cap, almost like a blaster shot in the silence of the room. You spread your legs, silently begging for her to touch you. You were throbbing now, all reservations from before forgotten in the face of reality.

One lubed finger circled your ass and you tried not to be disappointed that she hadn’t touched you where you truly wanted it. It was impossible she didn’t know how aroused you were, not with a front row seat, she had just _chosen_ not to. That shouldn’t have sent another shock of heat south, yet it did. This was about Phasma, about what she wanted, not you. You were just there to provide it.

The finger pushed in and you consciously relaxed around the intrusion to show how eager you were to please. Phasma wasted no time spreading the lube and coaxing you open. The way she did it was so impersonal, clearly just a task she was performing in order to get what she wanted. She made no move to improve the angle, uncaring if you derived any pleasure from it at all. You barely managed to bite down a moan at the realization.

A second finger slid in and Phasma continued the same, preparing you with the same amount of interest as she’d clean her blaster with. Next, a third finger went in and you couldn’t help spreading your legs further, the rhythmic movements arousing you even if you received little direct pleasure from the act. You may have been doing this to avoid reconditioning, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy it.

The fingers withdrew and then the blunt head of the strap was pushing against your rim. You moaned as it slid in, filling you up and making your eyes slip closed. Phasma didn’t wait for you to adjust, but she didn’t hurry either, just keeping a steady pressure until she was all the way inside, her hips pressing against your ass. You exhaled deeply, adjusting to the stretch and being so damn _full_.

“On the battlefield,” Phasma said, the sound of her vocoder underlining just what this was, “what are you?”

“I’m a gun, sir,” you said, reciting by rote what Phasma always told your squadron when she was in command. “I’m a gun for your hand.”

“Correct, trooper. And do you know what you are now?”

You tried to focus, tried to think anything beyond the hot pressure inside you, which was becoming more comfortable but also more arousing. Nothing came to mind, though, so you just shook your head and hoped that wasn’t the wrong answer. The last thing you wanted right now was for Phasma to pull out and decide you weren’t worth her time.

“Of course not, I should have expected that,” Phasma said, a hint of disappointment coming through that made you want to shrink into nothing. “I’ll tell you, then: you’re a hole.”

With that, Phasma pulled back and snapped her hips forward, immediately starting a hard rhythm. You couldn’t help a choked moan, the insistent back and forth of the strap inside you too much to deny. There was a hint of pain from the harsh thrusts, but just enough of a hint of pleasure to make it worth it. She didn’t need to tell you for you to know your pleasure was incidental here. If Phasma wanted it to feel good, she wouldn’t be fucking you like this.

“You’re a hole,” Phasma repeated, making your toes curl and your face burn with shame. “You’re a hole for me to use. Do try to be worthy of me using you.”

The moan that crawled out of your throat was entirely unintended, but you couldn’t have stopped it if you tried. The continued ramming against your ass made it hard to think and you were so aroused it almost hurt. A slightly different angle, a hand between your legs, that’s all it would take to put you on the track to coming. But you understood the unsaid meaning: holes didn’t get to come. If you wanted to be worthy of being used, you’d take what you were given and ask for nothing more than the privilege of serving your superior.

Phasma’s hands were suddenly on your hips, gripping you tight enough that you wondered if you’d have bruises later. She picked up the pace, the sound of your skin slapping together loud over your own panting and the quiet, mechanized grunts coming from Phasma. You strained to hear more, wondering what she’d sound like when she came. You were suddenly desperate to find out.

“What are you, trooper?” Phasma demanded, her tone uncharacteristically strained.

“I’m a hole, sir,” you managed, your breathing heavy both from arousal and from taking the rough fucking.

“And what are holes for?”

“Holes are to be used, sir.” Your response was nearly a moan this time, the words turning you on further even as Phasma continued to take her pleasure while giving you hardly any.

“And what don’t holes do?”

“Holes don’t come, sir,” you guessed breathlessly.

“Good hole,” Phasma said, her voice losing control even with the vocoder.

You never thought being called something like a ‘good hole’ would arouse you, so you were completely unprepared for the surge of heat and tingling between your legs. Oh fuck, you wanted to be touched so bad. You didn’t know if you’d ever been this desperate to come, yet you also knew it was the one thing Phasma wouldn’t allow you to do. You could feel a little pool of sticky wetness under you on the desk, proving just how badly you wanted it.

The next three thrusts were even rougher, less coordinated, and then Phasma pushed all the way in and stilled, her hips bucking shallowly as she rode out her orgasm, her breathing harsh behind her helmet. You could feel her thighs shaking where they touched yours and your whole body clenched at how good it must have been for her compared to you. But you were a hole; holes didn’t get to come. Phasma’s pleasure would have to be enough to satisfy you until you made it back to your quarters.

She pulled out without another word and you could hear her unbuckling the harness and putting herself back together. You took the moment while you could, trying to will your body to move. You felt so hot, the source of it throbbing insistently between your legs. Fuck, you might have to stop at a rarely used storage closet or something on the way back. You honestly weren’t sure you could wait until you made it back to your quarters.

“Get dressed and leave,” Phasma finally said, breaking your reverie. “You’re dismissed.”

Swallowing back a sigh of disappointment, you managed to stand on your weak legs and started gathering your armour. Phasma was already strapping on her greaves again, nearly the perfect picture of being untouchable all over again. It was like you were never there.

 _Except the way her thighs shook when she came,_ you couldn’t help but think. That was a memory you’d take with you into probably every masturbation session you ever had until the day you died. It was too good to forget. She could’ve gotten that from almost anyone she wanted, yet she’d chosen to take it from you.

Once dressed, you turned to glance at Phasma, but she didn’t say or do anything more. Feeling more together now that you were clothed again, you saluted and turned towards the door, eager to return to your quarters and touch yourself until you screamed. The door wooshed open and you were taken aback by the two Stormtroopers standing outside.

“FN-2169, we’re here to escort you to reconditioning,” the first said and you blanched.

“What?” You knew talking like this in front of a superior would only make things worse, but you couldn’t help it in your disbelief. “There must be some mistake – Captain Phasma said-”

“We have our orders,” said the second trooper. “Captain Phasma, if you will?”

“Your orders stand,” Phasma said.

Your knees suddenly felt weak for a whole different reason. You couldn’t believe this. Phasma had made you a deal, had fucked you like a toy, called you a kriffing _hole_ , and she wasn’t even going to stand by her word? It was hopeless to argue, though. Who would believe a lowly Stormtrooper over the great and respected Captain Phasma?

No one, that’s who. You didn’t fight it as the two Stormtroopers led you down the hall. It was too late for that. Phasma had played you and the worst part was you probably wouldn’t even remember it once the reconditioning was over. You knew she’d likely never be caught playing these sorts of games, but the possibility that she might was the only comfort you had on the way to the reconditioning wing.

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: the sex for favours doesn't end up working out because Hux still demotes you and Phasma still sends you to reconditioning, even though you agreed to fuck in exchange for that not happening. But hey, they're awful, what did you expect lmao?
> 
> Come hang out with me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/kyluxtrashpit/) or [tumblr](http://kyluxtrashpit.tumblr.com/) too


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